Conversations In the Dark Mutatis Mutandis
by N2
Summary: In close quarters tempers flare and secrets are revealed. (Sequel to 'Bloodstained Machinations')
1. Fury

**Disclaimer:** The characters in the following fic are property of Marvel Entertainment and are used without permission for the purpose of entertainment, not profit. Meats of evil. 

**Author's Notes:** This story is of course part of the _Mutatis Mutandis_ timeline, which after September 14 will officially be A/U I suppose. This story takes place after _Bloodstained Machinations_ at about the same time as _Awakening_ and _Home Sweet Home_. Stories are archived at www.originofspecies.cjb.net Death threats can be sent to decadentmazohyst@yahoo.ca 

**Conversations**   
**(In the Dark)**   
Part One   
By N 

The public was in an uproar so the government was in chaos so the media was in a feeding-frenzy that served to agitate the public even more… One couldn't turn on the TV, pick up a newspaper or listen to the radio without finding something mutant-related. None of it positive, of course. 

By unspoken agreement the television and radio were left turned off. The only noise came from the CD player, which seemed to be stuck repeatedly playing a stream of discordant, angry screaming. That and the mental stress of keeping a house full of negative thoughts out of her mind had conspired to give Jean Grey one HELL of a headache. 

And of course there was no aspirin to be found in either the kitchen or the bathrooms. That left her with one last very unsavory option… 

She rapped her knuckles against the cracked wooden door, biting her lip and trying to convince her face to set itself into a civil expression. It was well past eleven o'clock but there was still 'music' blaring from every available speaker in the house and she had to knock again before there was sign of life from behind the door. It was yanked open suddenly, leaving her hand raised in mid-knock. 

"Yeah?" Lance snapped, then blinked as he recognized who was at his door. His surly expression deepened. "What do YOU want?" 

Jean struggled to keep her tone polite. "We're out of aspirin. Fred said you might have some." 

"Got a headache, Red?" 

"Yes." 

Lance leaned against the doorframe, his expression changing from sullen reproach to one Jean liked considerably less… A slow, easy grin spread across his face as he looked her up and down appraisingly. She could feel the wheels in his dirty little head turn round and round. 

"Yeah, I got aspirin," he said amiably. Jean was immediately suspicious; Avalanche had not once addressed her nicely since she and the other X-men had taken up residence in the Brotherhood Boarding House. "You want some?" 

"Yes please," Jean replied. She waited for the catch. 

"Sure. No problem!" Lance turned and walked away from the door, flinging it open as he did so. He strolled over to a decaying desk set up against one wall and started rummaging around inside. He gestured and Jean entered his room cautiously, her nose wrinkling a little as she did so. 

_What a sty,_ she thought. _You think it would kill them to pick up after themselves even a LITTLE…_

"Here it is," Lance exclaimed. He looked up at Jean, still grinning lopsidedly. "You REALLY have a headache, huh?" 

"Yes. Thanks, Lance, I appreciate-" 

"Whoa, hold on there, Red. What do I get?" 

Jean stared at him. "What?" 

Lance's grin had spread. "For the aspirin. Ain't like I'm gonna give it to you for FREE." 

Jean felt a flash of real anger. She did NOT need this. "And just what did you WANT for it, Lance?" she asked, her hands curling into fists at her sides. 

Lance chuckled. "Well, let's see… your _head_ hurts… Hm. I'm sure you can think of something appropriate." 

"Oh you scummy little--! What the hell Kitty EVER saw in you I don't-" 

Lance held up his hands in a warding-off gesture. "Calm down. I didn't mean THAT. Ugh. Give me SOME credit… Snotty society bitches aren't my type." 

Jean forced her fists to unclench and took a deep breath. "Look, are you going to give me the aspirin or not?" 

"Yeah. All you gotta do in return is answer one little question." 

"Fine." 

Lance looked her in the eye, smirking. "Did fucking you give Matthews' cock frostbite? You being such a frigid bitch and all." 

Jean's mouth fell open in shock and Lance laughed. It was a mean, petty sound and upon hearing it Jean felt all her frustration of the past few days boil over into an exquisite rage. 

"I've HAD it with you!" Jean yelled. Lance had enough time to look at her in surprise before she telekinetically slammed him against the far wall. He let out a startled grunt, his eyes narrowing into animal slits. 

"Let me down from here, you b-" 

"Bitch, yeah, I know. Shut it." Jean walked across the room and took the bottle of aspirin out of Lance's desk. "You know, I'm getting really tired of everyone calling me that when they think I can't hear it. That's the thing about being telepathic; you hear _everything_." She regarded Lance with smoldering eyes. "And you know what else? I've had it up to here with your shit. Nobody is happy about this situation, Avalanche, but we all have to deal with it." 

"Fuck you," Lance grumbled, trying with no success to pull himself away from the wall. 

Jean threw up her hands in exasperation. "Talking to you is like talking to a brick wall," she said. "You're such a JERK! Why do you have to be that way?" 

"Why do YOU have to be such a snob?" Lance countered. 

Jean planted her hands on her hips. "Oh, I'm a snob? 'Snotty society bitch,' right? Well, you don't KNOW me, Avalanche. All I've ever done is try to be nice to people, something you might want to consider doing every now and then." She folded her arms across her chest and regarded Lance with bogus sorrow. "But you hate popular people, right? Here's a news flash: I never asked to be popular and it's not my fault that people LIKE me because I'm NICE to them." 

"The fact you've got big tits probably helps," Lance added from his position on the wall. 

"Oh, it's impossible to talk to you about anything. I feel sorry for Kitty since she for some unimaginable reason thinks you have a GOOD side." 

Lance started to reply but wound up just letting out a brief yell as he fell to the floor when Jean released her telekinetic hold on him. 

"Thanks for the aspirin, Lance," she said from his doorway. She looked over her shoulder and smiled sweetly at him. "And Lance? Don't piss me off again." 

She slammed the door on her way out. 


	2. Revelation of Night

**Disclaimer:** We all know that all the characters used here belong to Marvel, the cute little gnomes who dance around singing 'meats of evil!" Do not take their meats of evil. 

**Author Notes:** As you cna see, N and I are taking turns writing this one. All this happens after Bloodstained Machinations and during Home Sweet Home and Awakening, it all falls into the wonderful time line that is known as Mutatis Mutandis which, in my opinion, more people should take the time to read.   
Why?   
Because it took a long time to sort out all the details and ideas and to go un-appreciated would tick me off considerably. So if you like what you read then please be a good little monkey and go to http://www.originofspecies.cjb.net and read the rest of it. 

**Conversations   
(In the Dark)**   
Chapter 2   
By Kitten 

" Father into your hands, why have you forsaken me?   
In your eyes, forsaken me   
In your thoughts, forsaken me   
In your heart, forsaken me 

Oh, trust in my, self-righteous suicide   
I cry when angels deserve to die   
In my self-righteous suicide   
I cry when angels deserve to die…." 

Her voice was low, her accent deep and melodious. 

"Rogue?" Scott called softly, cautiously moving into the dark room. 

He could make out her slim figure; she lay on one of the many lumpy beds that populated the Brotherhood home. He could see her long pale legs flowing out from under the large grey pinstripe men's shirt that she had found in the back of the upstairs attic. Most of the X-men had crept their way up there in order to find alternative attire, as their uniforms were dirty and drenched in the sweat of their hard efforts. 

"Can we talk?" He asked, pausing in the dark, watching as she sat up and drew her legs towards her chest. She didn't say anything but patted the spot next to her. 

He sat down, feeling a little awkward. He knew something was wrong with Rogue; ever since they had rescued her from that weird place she had been very quiet, curt even. 

Scott cleared his throat and turned to look at her, he stopped short when he noticed again how pale her legs were, and how long they looked curled up against her chest. 

Her eyes looked up at him, and he blushed. 

"Weren't you wearing pants before?" He asked, turning his head, thankful for the darkness. 

"They smelt weird," she said wrinkling her nose. "Kind of lahk pot and mold." 

It was true most the clothing that the kids found in the attic were rejects from the 70'; Scott himself was wearing a pair of faded jean bellbottoms and a wildly colored short sleeved shirt that was missing more than one button. He felt vulnerable and self-conscious, not liking the fact that the shirt gaped open whenever he sat down or moved the wrong way. 

The CD stopped and Rogue went to change it. Scott gently took hold of her wrist. 

"What happened to you?" He blurted out foolishly, instantly regretting his bluntness. He turned his eyes away, and the two stood motionless for a few moments; a pair of ivory statues illuminated by the yellowed streetlights, frozen in positions of reflection. 

"I know that something happened to you Rogue, and… I need to know what." 

"Why?" She asked harshly, her voice cold and bitter. "Why should you care what happens to me as long as Miss Perfect is safe?" 

He looked at her, his heart stinging. "That's not fair." He said, his voice catching in his throat, making his Adam's apple hitch uncontrollably. This, on top of everything else, was just too much. 

"You know I care about everyone on this team, if anything were to happen… most of all to you." His words drifted across the heavy silence. 

She turned and looked at his face, it was wet with fresh tears, the crystal liquid seeping out from beneath his shades. 

"Scott?" She moved onto the bed beside him, she touched his face, her gloves soaking up the salty tears. "Oh Scott, Ahm sorry, Ah didn't mean…" 

"I hate this," he said quietly, his voice small and almost boyish. She paused and then wrapped her arms around him. He sunk gratefully into her, smelling her natural perfume, which was musky and slightly dark. 

"I hate being here," he said through tears. "I hate not knowing where he is, and not knowing what's going to happen and most of all, I hate not being able to fix any of this." 

"Shhh," she soothed and stroked his hair gently. He sniffed and burrowed deeper into her frame. 

"I'm sorry I messed up." He said, his voice soaked with anguish. "I'm sorry I didn't notice in time, I'm sorry that you had to…go through whatever it was. I'm so sorry." He sobbed his body sagging against her, she held him tighter and marveled at how small he seemed to be. How thin and weak his body felt all of a sudden. 

_Mah god,_ she thought to herself as she rubbed his back lovingly. _He thinks all of this is his fault!_ She gently pulled his head up from out of her chest, making his eyes level with hers. 

"Scott, this isn't your fault." She said, he tried to turn away but she forced him to look at her, "None of this is." Her voice was strong and she held his eyes in hers, although she wasn't aware of the fact. 

"But I…" 

"But nothing," she said forcefully. "There was no way to know in time. And as for me being in that weird place, that was nobody's fault. It just happened. The point is that you came for me. You rescued me." 

He looked into her eyes and saw something shinning out at him, something beautiful and perfect. "Tell me, please?" He asked. "What happened to you down there?" 

She sighed and drew away a little. "Ah….touched one of the guards. It was by accident, he was angry and went to hit me except…" She shrugged. "He wound up putting himself out and Ah got a little peek into what he thought about us." 

She looked up into his eyes, her own large and full of fear. "They hate us so much Scott," her voice was a whisper. "So much that it's scary." 

He pulled her over to him and held her, wrapping his arms around her fiercely. The two of them stayed that way, motionless, for what seemed to be hours. Providing each other with comfort until their souls were at ease, and then some. 


	3. Forced Epiphany

**Disclaimer:** The characters in the following fic are property of Marvel and are used without permission for the purpose of entertainment, not profit. Stan Lee stole my best bra. 

**Author's Notes:** This falls in the _Mutatis Mutandis_ timeline, which is now officially A/U. This chapter takes place at least 24 hours after the previous chapter. Stories are archived at www.originofspecies.cjb.net. Death threats can be sent to decadentmazohyst@yahoo.ca 

**Conversations (In the Dark)**   
Chapter Three   
By N 

There was such a thing as 'anger management'. Unfortunately, Lance Alvers had never heard of it. 

"FUCK!" he shouted, slamming his fist against ageing plaster. The entire house shook, not from the force of the blow, which did leave a nice hole in the wall, but from the earthquake caused by Lance's mutant powers. For as long as he could remember he'd had a lousy temper; when he was a little kid he would sometimes get so mad that it seemed he would shake the world apart with his anger. 

Well, now he could. 

Lance withdrew his fist, panting, and put his bleeding knuckles to his mouth. The tremors rocking the house subsided as he sucked meditatively on the wounds, his eyes dark and distant. He wanted to bring the rotting boarding house down on top of everyone inside. Earlier he might have thought to spare Kitty, but the way she was acting… fuck her. Fuck everyone. Lance removed his hand from his mouth and glared at the hole in the wall. The only thing really keeping him from attempting to knock the house down was Mystique - not because he respected her but because he knew that she'd beat the living snot out of him if he succeeded. Lance was scared of Mystique. But then, all of the Brotherhood Boys were. 

"Ow," Lance muttered sulkily. _Stupid wall._

Living in close proximity with the X-Men was definitely taking a toll on Lance's peace of mind. At first it had been almost enjoyable - they were ill at ease and obviously not used to such 'inferior' living conditions. But after a while Lance got tired of it. Their discreet sneers of contempt no longer brought him satisfaction but rather infuriated him. '_We are above you,_' they seemed to say. _'Who would call this a home? Poor white trash, that's who.'_ God, how he hated them. 

Also, Lance was nervous. Mystique showed no sign of shipping them all off someplace safe yet - and that worried Lance a great deal. It made him wonder if maybe Mystique didn't really have a plan, if maybe she was as disoriented as he was. And they certainly couldn't stay in the boarding house much longer… eventually the police would check the address. 

And what then? 

"Bury 'em," he muttered, but without conviction. He thought of Toad, perched on the kitchen counter the previous night when he'd gone down to get a snack. It had been Toad who had pointed out that their address was on file at Bayville High and it was only a matter of time before somebody ratted them out. Lance had shrugged. "So?" he'd said. "We could take 'em." 

Toad had regarded him with solemn eyes. "Can't dodge a bullet, yo," he'd replied. 

Lance was startled out of his reverie by a knock on his door. "Go away," he hollered. There was a pause, then the door creaked open and Lance found himself looking at the absolute last person he wanted to see in his present mood. 

"Hey rock-tumbler, you wanna knock that off? This place doesn't look all that sturdy, you know." 

Scott Summers. 

"Get the fuck out of my room, four-eyes, or I'll show you how sturdy that wall is by knocking it on your head." 

Scott tensed. "Look, all I'm saying-" 

Lance turned his back on the other boy. "Fuck off. In case you forgot, this is OUR house, not yours. I ain't listening to a word you say." 

"Oh yeah? I bet your boss would be real pleased if you shook the house down." 

Lance felt his hands curl into fists. "Watch it, Summers." 

"Actually, that's the real reason I came up here." Scott took another step into Lance's room, causing the dark-haired boy to spin around, glaring. 

"What?" 

Scott regarded Lance evenly. "As much as I don't like you personally, you might have information. So." Scott shrugged. "All I want to know is: does Mystique plan to move us anytime soon? Because we're sitting ducks here." 

Lance stared for a second, then shook his head irritably. "I don't know." 

"You're kidding." 

"No I'm not," Lance replied through clenched teeth. "Probably. I mean, she'd better." 

Scott made an exasperated gesture with his hands. "Great." 

"What, you think we're happy about it? Fuck, I wanna be anywhere but here right now." Lance ran a hand through his hair, nerves singing high opera. 

"So why aren't you?" 

"Huh?" 

Scott leaned against the wall, not far from the hole Lance had just punched into it. "I don't get it. We're here because she has leverage over us - she has the Professor. But you guys…" He shook his head. 

"She's in charge," Lance explained, suddenly uncomfortable. "I mean, yeah, she's a bitch but…" He stopped. But what? "We owe her," he finished lamely. 

Scott actually smiled. It wasn't a pleasant expression. "You know she was going to leave you behind back at that compound." 

"No," Lance replied immediately. He felt uneasy - the other boy was hinting at thoughts too close to some that had been lurking below the surface of Lance's own mind and he didn't like the implications. 

"Yes. Her exact words were, 'They're expendable.'" Scott moved away from the wall towards the doorway. "Thought maybe you should know." 

"Fuckin' liar," Lance whispered. 

"Ask Toad. She wasn't going to wait for you." Scott left the room quietly. 

_Expendable._

Lance stared after Scott long after he'd left. Maybe, he decided, it was time to talk to the Brotherhood. Just in case. 


	4. Truth shedding some light

**Disclaimer:** Once again we all know that the characters used belong all to Marvel, the cute little guys who tell me time and time again that wearing plaid and stripes is a bad thing. 

**Author Notes:** First thing, thank you todd fan, furygrrl and 'me' for reviewing the fics, it's once again nice to know that someone out there is reading all of this stuff. ^_^ The entire timeline and other such goodies can be found at www.originofspecies.cjb.net (newly renovated!) 

**Conversations in the Light**   
By starched_undergarments 

Ororo Monroe was not one to lose her cool, although for the past few days Mystique had really been pushing her luck. At any given opportunity she would rub it in the X-men's faces that she was in control, a sick sadistic glimmer shining out from her yellowed eyes. 

Currently, Storm was stationed out in the back yard, her body tense and alert. She knew that the Brotherhood's home wouldn't be safe for much longer; she and Mystique had gone out scouting for a new base yet had came up empty handed. She could feel how the weather bent to her mood, how there seemed to be a constant dry crackling in the air. 

A storm was approaching. 

"Auntie O?" 

She turned and smiled wearily as her nephew walked cautiously over to her. "Yes, Evan?" 

"Can I talk to you? About our, you know, 'current situation'?" 

She nodded and watched as he looked around suspiciously, as if spies were lurking amongst the shadows. And in this house, you never could be too sure. 

"I've been talking to Kitty and we think we might know how to find the Professor." 

Storm studied her nephew for a moment. "Go on," she said, noticing how serious his eyes were. 

"Well it's like this: ol' Snake-lips had got us pinned because she's got the Prof right? And Jean can't probe her mind right?" 

Storm nodded slowly, curious to know where he was going with this. "And?" She prompted, feeling a little impatient. 

"So lets just get Rogue to grab her and suck it right out of the bitch!" He hissed exasperatedly. 

She was about to explain to Evan the flaws in his plan when she stopped; it was so simple and yet so obvious that she almost laughed. Yes, Mystique's powers had advanced so far that Jean couldn't probe her, and Wolverine hadn't been able to detect her, but there was no way she could avoid Rogue's touch. 

"By the Bright Lady," she whispered and hugged her nephew tightly, relief flooding her heart. "Go and get Scott and Rogue," she said and took at deep breath as he ran off into the house. 

_Professor,_ she thought, _We're coming for you._

*** 

"We need to talk." Scott Summers said sternly, his face serious. 

Mystique smirked and waved her hand nonchalantly at him. "What about Mr. Summers?" 

He took a step towards her and she held up her hand, halting him. "What is it you really want, Mystique?" he asked flatly. Mystique eyed the boy with her cat-like eyes before walking over to him, confident in every move. Face to face she was a good foot shorter than him but she snarled up at him the very same. 

"Power, revenge. The simple things in life," She spat, enjoying the way he stiffened with discomfort. 

"Tell us where he is," he tried. Mystique could almost taste his hope. She laughed, a harsh cruel sound that echoed against the dirty walls. 

"Keep dreaming little X-man," she said with a malicious grin but stopped when she saw his face. 

He was smiling. An almost ironic smile. 

"Well, it's time you got a rude awakening then, bitch." 

He lunged and she dodged him, turning her back on the narrow hallway that was now behind her. She brought her leg up fast, getting ready to deliver a painful yet not-quite-fatal blow to the back of the boy's head when she felt hands on her face and neck. 

Rogue. 

She could barley make an audible groan before she collapsed onto the floor, unconscious. 

Scott shoved her prone body with his foot, making sure that Mystique was in fact down for the count. He looked up at Rogue to congratulate her when he stopped short. 

She was crying. 

*** 

When both Scott and Storm had approached her only moments before, Rogue had eyed them warily. The plan was for Scott to distract Mystique and force her to focus on the Professor while she moved in from the rear and grabbed her. 

She had declined at first, her stomach sinking. Mystique's mind was not something she wanted another taste of; the first time had been bad enough. But when she had looked up at Scott, his face pleading with her, she agreed. 

Now she regretted it fully. 

She stood motionless, tears pouring down her pale face, memories flooding her mind. 

Betrayal, pain, love, hate… all these things came in waves at her. She could see Kurt, feel the pain and sadness he evoked within her. She could see the Professor, weak and helpless. And a pair of ice blue eyes, staring at her with animal hunger. 

But most of all she saw herself, intimate moments of friendship, of trust. It all came together like one sadistic jig-saw puzzle, she knew why and what was. 

Mystique was her mother. 

*** 

When Todd Tolensky head the first thud he dismissed it, thinking that it was probably just Lance trying to jump Kitty, the bubbly X-man who kept him unintentionally on a leash. However when he heard the second dull thud he looked up from his position of the couch, his eyebrows knitting together in concern. 

_Probably nothing,_ he thought to himself and shook off a strange, impending feeling of dread. He had more important things to think about at the moment. 

It was time to proceed with his 'secret-strategic-arm-placement' plan. 

He yawned and stretched out his arms, keeping an eye on Wanda, who sat next to him. Carefully he tried to bring his arm down casually, hoping that she was too absorbed in the T.V. program to notice his move. 

"Any part of you that touches me you're not getting back," Wanda informed him flatly, her eyes never leaving the flashing screen. 

He pulled back his arm and slumped further into the sagging couch. She was a smart cookie…he would have to think of a better way to get close. Sneaking a peek at her once more he saw that she had turned her head towards the stairs, her eyes narrowed and suspicious. 

Todd sighed. He couldn't help it… he liked Wanda. Like a lot. Of course the only person who knew or really cared was Fred. The two had sat together many nights up in his room, discussing different plans and possible smooth moves he could try in order to woo her. The only problem was that neither of them had ever had girlfriends, or dates, nor even close contact with a girl for that matter. 

So they had decided that he should go with what they could learn from the movies and play the part of the hero or the smooth stud. The problem was that Wanda wasn't like any of the women in the movies; she was completely unique. 

He sighed again and ran his eyes over her body, noticing each and every detail he had come to love about her. Her cropped hair, her dark eyes, those long eyelashes, and her nose, which, like Pietro's, was almost exactly like her father's. It was odd, the two twins looked a like yet were almost polar opposites. 

Light and dark, black and white, good and evil… okay more like Evil and Angry, but you got the idea. 

Wanda stood up suddenly, her eyes still on the staircase. Todd turned and saw Scott come in, carrying an unconscious Rogue in his arms. Storm was close behind, her white hair streaming about her wildly. 

"Put her down there Scott," Storm told him and Todd watched as he laid the goth girl down with surprising compassion. 

"What the hell happened to her?" Lance blurted out. He had come in from the kitchen, a glass of dirty water in one hand. 

Scott ignored him and called to Kurt who had been sitting near a window looking out it forlornly. "Go and get the rest of the team," he said. Lance set his water down and walked into the room, his eyes hard and angry. Rogue might be an X-man, but she had been with them first and out of all of them Lance still held a small amount of respect and liking for her. 

"What did you do to her?" he asked the X-man furiously. Todd stood up and edged toward Wanda. 

"I didn't do anything to her, you dick," Scott spat suddenly at Lance. "Your boss did this." 

Lance stopped short andan array of emotions passed over his face: confusion, doubt, and then composure. "How? Why?" He asked, but was ignored. Kurt had re-appeared next to Scott his face concerned and fearful. 

"Scott, mien friend we have a small problem. Mystique is no longe,r urmmm 'down for the count' as you called it." 

It was then that they heard the angry yell from the entrance hall. Scott looked to Storm who was completely calm, except for her eyes. They were crackling with white fire. 

The Storm had come. 

*** 

Feedback? Review or e-mail! More to come as soon as N gets off her lazy ass. 


	5. Conversation's End

**Disclaimer:** All characters depicted in this fic belong to Marvel and are used without permission for shits and giggles. 

_Mutatis Mutandis_ is archived at www.originofspecies.cjb.net 

**Conversation's End**   
By N 

"Well," Storm said as Mystique rushed into the room. She stopped when Storm blocked her path, her eyes narrowing. "It seems we have the information you tried so hard to keep from us. We no longer need reside here." Mystique retreated a step, cat-eyes shifting restlessly. 

"And you, Mystique…" A chilling smirk played across Storm's lips and her eerily blank eyes blazed. "You are no longer useful." 

Mystique snarled, her eyes darting like a wild animal's before they settled with blistering ferocity on the two present Brotherhood Boys. "Don't just stand there you idiots," she said. "Help me!" 

Scott tensed in his crouch beside Rogue's prone figure as Avalanche advanced a step… and turned away. 

_Way to go, Alvers,_ Scott thought. 

Mystique let out an appalling, wordless shriek of rage. The sound was positively inhuman, and Toad actually leapt behind the couch while Lance flinched. Mystique lunged from her cornered position against the wall and Storm descended upon her. Scott turned away as lighting flashed and screams rent the air. Chaos reigned for bare seconds and then there was the unmistakable sound of breaking glass. When Scott chanced another look he found the window was broken and there was no sign of Mystique. Storm turned to face him, her features tight with anger. 

"She got away?" Scott asked, knowing the answer already. 

"Yes." 

"Woman's lahk a… snake," Rogue muttered. She put a hand to her head. Scott made sure he was supporting her and helped her to stand. 

"Rogue?" he asked. "You okay?" 

"Not really," she replied. Scott smiled, relieved at the familiar surliness of her tone. "Ah NEVER want t'do that again." 

"You won't have to," Scott said. "Rogue, can you tell me… The Professor--?" 

"Keep your shorts on, Scott," Rogue replied. "Ah know where he is. Ah just have to sort mah head out a little." 

Storm placed a hand on Scott's shoulder before he could reply. "Scott, let her rest," she said and smiled. "The Professor can wait another few minutes, I'm sure." 

Scott nodded and reluctantly relinquished his hold on Rogue. Storm took the girl aside, leaving Scott to look about the room sort of dazedly. After a second's hesitation he approached the Brotherhood Boys, who were looking out of the broken window. Scott stopped behind them, unsure of how to proceed. Lance's face, he noticed, was not angry as he'd expected, but rather incredibly weary. 

"Hey," Scott said. They turned to look at him with tired suspicion. "Thanks." 

"Whatever, yo," Toad replied. "Ain't like we owed Mystique no favours." 

Scott shrugged. "Still. I appreciate it." He looked directly at Lance, who seemed to be purposely ignoring him. "So I guess we'll be out of your hair real soon." 

"Sure," Lance replied listlessly. Toad was looking at Lance with something approaching accusation, a look the older boy either didn't notice or was also ignoring. 

_They have nowhere to go,_ Scott thought suddenly. 

"Alvers," he started but was cut off as Lance shouldered his way past him, his head down. 

"Save it, Summers," he whispered. 

* * * 

"She's gonna kill us, oh man, she's gonna kill us…" Toad was babbling. He had followed Lance up to his room, grabbing Freddy along the way and explaining the situation to him. Now the Blob stood at the window, looking outside with a deep frown creasing his heavy features while Lance sat on the end of his bed, smoking and staring moodily at nothing. 

Toad hopped in front of him, his bulging eyes accusatory. "You shoulda HELPED her, yo!" 

"Didn't see you doing anything," Lance muttered. 

"I had to protect my woman," Toad replied with a disdainful sniff. 

"Jesus, Toad," Lance said, standing suddenly. Toad backed up so quickly his butt banged against the wall. "YOU'RE the one who said we didn't owe Mystique any favours! Fuck, YOU'RE the one who said that she was gonna fucking leave us behind at the fucking compound!" The house was shaking. Fred looked at the falling plaster without much interest or concern. "And now," Lance continued, advancing on Toad until the smaller boy was crammed into a corner. "You're gonna sit there and tell me I should have HELPED the bitch?! Why?!" 

"Because now she's gonna KILL us!" Toad squeaked. "Without the X-men here there ain't nobody who's gonna help us, yo!" 

"I'm gonna kill you myself!" Lance shouted. A large piece of the ceiling came crashing down, causing Freddy to finally turn away from the window. 

"Hey," he said. Lance, who had picked Toad up by the scruff of the neck, paused. "We should get outta here. And would you put Todd down already? It's not helping." 

The earthquake stopped abruptly and Lance tossed Toad aside with a muttered curse. Still, he looked surprised. It wasn't often Fred sounded so serious. 

"They're leaving," Fred announced, looking out the window again. Toad and Lance crowded over as well and watched silently as the X-men filed out of the house, apparently being organized by Cyclops and Storm. 

"Must be going to find the Prof, yo," Toad whispered. 

They were quiet for another minute or two as the X-Men moved off into the dark. Then they saw another familiar figure moving after them with long strides, her red coat flapping behind her. 

"Wanda!" they cried in unison. Toad turned immediately and hopped out of the room, hollering "Wait, sweetums!" 

Fred looked at Lance, who shrugged. "They're still our team," Lance said. "Fucked up as that is. You wanna…?" 

Fred nodded. "Yeah." With that they both went after Toad, each boy coming to the realization that they might never see the Boarding House again. 

* * * 

Somewhere, water dripped slowly, incessantly. Drip, drip, drip. The discolored concrete walls were crumbling in places and the air was dank and chilling. Scott tried hard to maintain his composure and not curse himself for letting the professor reside so long in such a place. He could only hope the toll taken on the man's health wasn't lethal. 

Rogue had led the team, being tailed conspicuously by the Brotherhood, to a run-down building in a secluded area on the seedier side of Bayville. It appeared to have once been a hospital, but years of neglect and semi-demolition had reduced it to a shadowy haven barely fit for human habitation. 

"He's down there," Rogue had said, pointing at the building. "There's a stairway hidden behind a collapsed wall that leads to a basement. That's where she's keeping him." 

Scott had inspected the wall, finding a crack big enough to slip behind. "Okay," he'd said. Storm, Jean, you come with me. The rest of you stay here." The others had nodded dumbly, their initial euphoria at the discovery of the Professor's whereabouts fading. 

Now Scott found himself walking gingerly across a floor strewn with puddles of odd-smelling water, the occasional rat scurrying across his path. It was dark and the scent of age and neglect was starting to give Scott a headache. 

"Scott," Jean said suddenly. Her voice sounded thick and Scott realized that was because it was choked with tears. Then he saw it too. 

In the corner was a hospital gurney and on top of it lay a solitary figure covered in a white sheet. IV drips surrounded the gurney like solemn nurses, solely feeding their secret contents into pale, motionless arms. 

"Professor Xavier!" Scott cried and rushed to the gurney's side. He grabbed one of the Professor's hands, shocked at how clammy it was to the touch. The man was unconscious, but breathing. Alive. 

"We've found you," Scott whispered. "We've found you, Professor." 

* * * 

- Fin - 

Next on the agenda: The New Mutants return, while Magneto is still up to something… and you know it can't be good. Death threats can be sent to decadentmazohyst@yahoo.ca 


End file.
